


Instincts

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Ambiguity, Angst, Confessions, Family, Feelings, Feels, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Organized Crime, Protection, Rescue, Sex, Slash, Sleepovers, Truth or Dare, Yakuza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21547147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: While running for his life, Izaya smacks into the person he'd least like to see.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya
Comments: 12
Kudos: 335





	Instincts

Izaya has a meeting with a rival gang in their HQ. No big deal, something he has undertaken many times before. While he is waiting for them to pick him up, he sees he has two missed calls from Shiki. This makes him uneasy, but he tries to brush the feeling off. Shiki couldn’t read minds. Then his escort arrives and Izaya is forced to put the phone away.

Their HQ is dirty, worlds apart from the pristine Awakusu-Kai HQ. There are six of them, which is a surprise, even though just one of them seems to do the talking. They look at Izaya with a curiosity that does nothing for his unease.

“Thank you for coming,” their leader says. “This assignment is very important to us. We wanted to work with the best.”

“I’m very flattered,” Izaya says. His heart starts to hammer. The other man opens his mouth to speak again when the informant blurts, “I’m sorry, could I quickly use the bathroom before we get started?”

The leader looks irritated, but he waves to one of his subordinates. 

“Show him where it is.”

Izaya is led down an equally dirty corridor, and he doesn’t have to check behind him to know that the subordinate will wait for him outside the door. He locks it, and a shudder passes through his body that he didn't realise he'd been suppressing. He is shaking as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff and he knows, as sure as he knows his name, that if he goes back in they are going to kill him.

He looks around himself, trying to think. He finds with delight that the window is open halfway, one of the push-up kinds. He steps towards it eagerly and climbs on the toilet seat.

It is stuck fast however when he tries to push it up further, not from a lock but from rust and disuse. He doesn't want to risk making noise by shoving it harder. He peers down instead. Three floors up. He could jump if he really had to, but the sound he’d make on landing might alert them. 

Bending himself in half, he wriggles and slithes through the window, turning himself over halfway through to face the pitiless night's sky. He grips the top of the window frame while attempting to get his lower half out.

A knock comes from inside, startling him so much he almost falls. He grips the window harder, hoping it will not give and crush him in half. The knock makes him clumsy with urgency, and he squirms harder. The fur of his cuff catches on something, trapping him, and he yanks at it impatiently, tearing half of his sleeve. To him, the rip of the fabric seems loud enough to him to wake the dead, and the knock inside repeats itself, louder now. 

But he has done it, he is free, he body arched as he grips the top and bottom of the window frame with his hands and feet. No time to climb - he will have to jump and run. He lowers himself so that he is hanging on the ledge by his hands, and lets himself drop.

The pain is still reverberating from his ankles as he breaks into a run.

He hears their shouts behind him, but he is fast, they are bigger than him and they will be slow, and unlike the Awakusu-Kai they had no henchmen to do the sweaty work for them. He flies through the streets without looking where he is going. 

He is unfamiliar with this part of town, but he is as light and as fast as a cat after years of practice with Shizu-chan. He doesn't mind dying on the job, but he refuses to die over such a stupid, easily avoided mistake. 

Tasting blood in his mouth, he can hear them running behind him, but he knows he can outtrun them so long as he doesn’t make a wrong turning into a dead end.

He runs blind until he smacks into someone so solid it is like running into a wall. He staggers, eyes smarting with pain. He peers at this stranger in the dim street lights, trying to decide whether he was a sumo wrestler or some kind of circus freak. It is neither. It is Shizuo. 

“Help me,” Izaya blurts. He can hear his pursuers, and it is too late for pride. Shizuo's look of fury turns to one of confusion. “I need you to hide me. I’ll give you 100000 yen. I’m not joking. You know I have it.”

Shizuo stares at him in confusion. Then he looks over Izaya’s head in the direction of the voices. His face hardens, clearly impatient with them for making him deal with his enemy. He gives Izaya a little push and growls,

“Go and hide. I’ll deal with them.”

Izaya ducks into the nearest alley and waits. 

The thud of footsteps comes like a herd of horses. They come to a clattering stop, clearly seeing Shizuo. They will know who he is. Everyone knew who Shizuo Heiwajima was, and what he was capable of.

“Move out of our way, freak,” one of them snaps.

“Who the fuck do you think you are,” Shizuo answers back, quite calmly, for him. Izaya hears him lighting up a cigarette, and almost laughs.

“You see a guy go past here?” one of the others says. “About your age, slim, furry jacket?”

“Nope,” Shizuo says nonchalantly. 

“You sure?”

“You calling me a liar?”

“Look pal, we just need to -”

“There was someone running, but he didn’t come this way. He went over there,” Shizuo says, apparently pointing them in another direction. “I didn’t see what he looked like.”

Swearing, they take off again, arguing and blaming each other. Their voices and their footstep fades.

Shizuo steps round the corner and finds Izaya leaning against the wall, still not quite able to believe that he is saved.

“You OK?”

“I can’t go home,” he blurts. “They know me, they’ll find where I live. I need to stay somewhere else tonight. I’ll give you more money. 200000 yen.”

“You could get a nice hotel for that.”

“Don’t be dense, Shizu-chan, I need protection" he snaps. "300000 yen. Please.”

Shizuo’s eyes widen. He looks uncomfortable with the idea of so much money for doing so little. But he shrugs and says, “All right. Let’s go.”

Izaya pushes himself off the wall and follows Shizuo. His ankles still twinge and protest at the fall he’d subjected them to. He notices his hands are shaking and stuffs them into his pocket. Shizuo wisely doesn't mention that half of the informant's sleeve is hanging off.

“We can go to an ATM,” Izaya says. “I don’t have that much cash on me.”

Shizuo gives him an odd look. 

“Forget it. We’ll sort it out in the morning.”

They make it to Shizuo’s apartment without speaking again. Shizuo’s apartment is a small, all-in-one room with a bathroom stuck on the end. He goes into his cupboard and finds Izaya a spare futon and pillow, which he lays out near his own. After a moment’s pause he also finds Izaya a towel and spare toothbrush.

Izaya smiles weakly.

“I’m impressed with Hotel Shizuo so far. I’ll be sure to leave you a good review.”

“Shut up,” Shizuo says mechanically. “I’m getting a shower. Go in the kitchen if you want anything.”

Left alone, Izaya tries to calm down. This was the last place in the world anyone would think of looking for him. He won’t sleep, so he'd have all night to come up with a plan. He hears Shizuo turn on the hot water next door, and rubs his aching ankles. He would love a bath.

He takes out his phone and notices with dismay that he has another missed call from Shiki. Gangs talked to each other, he knew. Maybe Shiki had finally figured out what happened to Akane and ordered this. 

Izaya will have to pay for protection. Not Shizuo’s kind of protection, but the more expensive, sophisticated kind, that would cost him half his life savings and ensure that none of them ever laid a finger on him again. 

Shizuo comes out of the bathroom in a t shirt and shorts, rubbing a towel through his hair. Steam fills the apartment even with the ventilator fan on.

“Do you have some clothes I can sleep in, Shizu-chan?” Izaya blurts.

Shizuo digs in his wardrobe and tosses Izaya a t shirt and cotton pants. Izaya discreetly dips into his futon to change, while gets into his own futon and picks up a book, taking no notice of the informant whatsoever. Shizuo does not appear to be sleepy. Izaya is glad they are both night owls.

“Is there somewhere I can charge my phone…?”

More impatiently this time, Shizuo throws a charger at him and points at the wall socket.

“Thank you.”

Izaya lies in the futon and tries to calm down. He can’t sleep. He looks at Shizuo discreetly to try and see what his book is. The book lowers and Shizuo’s eyes glare back at him impatiently, looking all the more furious without his usual blue sunglasses. Izaya looks away meekly.

After an hour or so, Shizuo turns off the lamp. 

Izaya sits up in the dark to think better. He goes through his contacts, his former contacts, and tries to come up with a plan, but his brain doesn’t seem to be working properly. How could he have misjudged things so entirely? Yes, his instincts had kicked in before it was too late, but why had they not acted at the start, like they always did? Perhaps he was getting complacent. He had got away with so much, he was so cocksure. If it weren’t for all his chases with Shizu-chan, he would be dead for sure, even with fear and adrenalin spurring him on. In a way, he thinks, it was good that this had happened. It would keep him on his toes in future.

Shizuo sighs in the dark.

“What are you doing?”

Izaya blinks.

“I’m not doing anything, Shizu-chan. I’m just sitting here. What would you like me to do?”

“Aren’t you going to go to sleep?”

“I can’t sleep. But don’t worry, I’m not planning to rob you or film you snoring.”

“What happened?”

The question cuts Izaya’s poor attempt at humour short. He continues,

“I'm guessing you finally went too far and pissed off the wrong person?”

Against his better judgement, Izaya attempts to give Shizuo a disjointed, rambling account of what happened. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds, as he describes how he had been sitting at the table, completely civilised, and then he simply knew that he had to escape or he was going to die. Shizuo listens to all this without interrupting or contradicting him.

“So what are you going to do?” Shizuo asks. “You can’t just hide here forever.”

“I know that,” Izaya snaps. “I have all night. I’m bound to think of something.”

Shizuo sighs again. Silence lapses, and Izaya thinks he is asleep, when he grumbles,

“I can’t sleep like this. I can practically feel the tension coming off you.”

“Well what do you want me to do, sleep in the hall?” 

“Maybe you should - distract yourself,” Shizuo suggests. “You know how sometimes you can think of an answer to a problem only when you stop thinking about it?”

Shizuo actually had a point.

“So maybe we should play cards or chess or something.”

“Really?” Izaya says tentatively. “You’d do that for me?”

Shizuo seems to waver.

“I am kind of tired,” he admits. “Is there anything we can play in bed?”

“I Spy?” Izaya suggests with a snicker. “Truth or dare?”

“I’ll play truth or dare, but I’m only doing dares that I can do in bed.”

“Don’t worry, I can be very inventive with my dares,” Izaya chuckles, warming to the challenge. “I’ll go first. I pick truth.”

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.”

"I already told you about tonight."

"That doesn't count. Tell me something else."

Izaya’s smile falters. Of course, it’s just a stupid game, and he always lied on principle whenever he had played this game in high school or with his sisters, but there is something so serious about the way Shizuo asks him, the way he is looking at him in the dark. Izaya swallows and braces himself for what he is about to say.

“You know, I was actually a twin as well.” He can feel Shizuo still with surprise. “Just in the womb. I was the eldest. And I suppose I - well, it’s apparently actually quite common with twins, but I killed him, or he died anyway, or whatever the hell happens. It was quite late on in the pregnancy, and my parents had bought two sets of everything, a stroller for twins, a double cot, matching outfits and all of that. I only know because my Mum is always a little sad on my birthday, and when I was old enough to ask why she told me about this dead little brother that I’d never met. And later when she was pregnant with my sisters, she was so scared and sad all the time, she was convinced it would happen again. But it was a normal pregnancy, a normal birth, and they’re normal people.” 

He pauses for air. Shizuo stays silent, waiting for him to continue. “It’s a very strange feeling, knowing you were a twin,” he goes on. “I think about what he would have been like, if he'd be my friend or if we'd be too different. Or what it would have been like if were the other way round, if I had died. If he would have been popular. He might have been your friend.” Izaya laughs nervously, a little hysterically, and Shizuo reaches out in the dark and takes hold of his hand. “I was really jealous of my sisters as well,” he continues, figuring the damage was done and he may as well get the whole thing out. “My parents were so happy. And my sisters were so close, it was like they had their own secret language together. And my parents were always happy despite everything, so they were very close too. And there was just me, in the middle. Maybe a total miscarriage would have been better for all of us.”

Shizuo squeezes his hand tight.

“Don’t say that.”

Izaya laughs shakily.

“God, I’m sorry, Shizu-chan, I don’t know where that came from. I swear I’m not always that weird when I play this game.”

“It’s OK. Thank you for telling me.”

“Don’t tell anyone else.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Even my sisters don’t know. Or Shinra.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

He sniffs in the dark. Shizuo still has hold of his hand.

“For what it’s worth,” Shizuo says gently. “I know your parents must have been sad and all, but I bet they loved you more than anything, just for being alive.”

“The consolation prize.”

“Come on.”

“They’re sad I don’t have a girlfriend or kids, and that I didn’t go to college and become a normal salaryman.”

“What do they do? They’re away a lot, aren’t they?”

“They’re botanists.”

“Plants? That’s pretty cool.”

“Plants. They’re in Mexico at the moment, studying some lily or something. And they go to a lot of conferences. They met at work. They’re very cute, I suppose.” He sniffs again and gives a self-deprecating laugh. “You’ll have to charge me me therapy fees as well as for accommodation. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I barely even think about - about what I just told you. My family is nice. I have a good life.” He pulls his hand free. Shizuo lets it go.

“Sometimes it’s just good to talk,” Shizuo says. He is discreetly quiet while Izaya finds a tissue to blow his nose.  “It’s my turn. I pick dare.”

“Put off by my scary standards of truth, hm?” Izaya chuckles. “Now what can I think for you to do that you can do in bed..? Maybe lift something ridiculous?”

“It has to be something within reaching distance,” Shizuo says lazily. “Maybe I could lift you.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Izaya laughs.

This is a mistake. He has barely finished speaking when Shizuo reaches over and grabs him with both hands, lifting him high above his head, supporting him by the back of his legs and his back. And Izaya laughs and laughs, it is so ridiculous, being held above Shizuo’s head at arm's length while the other man lies in bed in the dark, not breaking a sweat.

“Sssh, you’ll wake my neighbours,” Shizu admonishes, setting him down carefully, but he sounds like he is smiling too.

“That’s not fair, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, when he’s finally got himself under control. “I have to assign you the dare. You can’t just do whatever you want.”

“I’m the host. My rules,” Shizuo says placidly. “It’s your turn.”

“Fine,” Izaya sighs. “Let’s not have a repeat of the drama earlier. I pick dare.”

Yes, he would rather Shizuo dare him to jump off the balcony rather than make a fool of himself again.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

Izaya stares at him in the dark. He replays the dare over and over in his head, trying to figure out which part he had misheard.

“You don’t have to,” Shizuo says nervously, and just like that Izaya knows he’s heard him right.

“No, I will,” Izaya says. He scrubs at his eyes one last time and shuffles closer. It’s hard to see, so he reaches out blindly to find Shizuo’s shoulders in the dark. Shizuo is tense beneath him, waiting. Izaya lowers his head until their lips are touching. He lingers for a moment, feeling Shizuo kiss back, before pulling back. Shizuo follows him, kissing him again. An arm comes around Izaya’s waist, while the other pulls away the futon sheet that separates them.

“Come in here,” Shizuo whispers.

Izaya slips in as Shizuo turns to face him, relishing the warmth of the other’s body. He reaches out tentatively for Shizuo’s shoulders again, fingers slipping under his shirt this time. 

“You’re cold,” Shizuo says. His hands come up and cover Izaya’s with his own. They kiss again. Shizuo sighs and releases his hands, his own hands coming down to ghost under Izaya’s borrowed t-shirt, tracing patterns against his skin.

“...I always thought you were so good-looking,” Shizuo grumbles, as if Izaya did it deliberately to annoy him. “It pisses me off. I want to…”

One of the hands leave him, and the next thing he knows the warm glow of the lamp illuminates them, making Shizuo's skin even golder than usual.

“...see you,” Shizuo finishes, a little breathlessly.

Izaya fists his hand in Shizuo’s hair and drags him back for another kiss, a real one. They start pawing roughly at each other’s clothes. 

Shizuo moves down and takes Izaya’s nipple between his teeth, then moves down further, licking and kissing his way, while Izaya clings to his hair helplessly. 

His head falls back as Shizuo takes him in his mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut against the heat, knowing he will come if he looks. 

“Shizuo,” he sighs helplessly, as Shizuo finds the hand in his hand and forces his fist open, lacing his fingers with his own. “Fuck, stop,” he whispers. “I’m going to come.”

Shizuo lets his mouth slide off, replacing it with his hand to protect it from the night’s chill. He moves back up Izaya’s body and kisses him again, letting him taste himself.

“...I don’t have condoms,” Shizuo says then, a little sheepishly. 

“Then don’t use them,” Izaya says.

He shifts on to his back while Shizuo messes around in his bedside table. Then he lifts Izaya’s legs over his shoulders, stopping long enough to kiss his inner thigh.

“You are so fucking perfect,” he whispers. “It pisses me off.”

“You need to work on your sweet talk.”

“No I don’t. You like pissing me off.”

A well oiled finger presses into him then, and Izaya has to shut his eyes against the strangeness of it. Shizuo waits a moment before adding another one.

“Is this OK?”

“Yes,” Izaya moans. His cock is aching. He wants more, anything, even if it hurts. “Hurry up.”

Shizuo flexes his fingers inside him a few times. It’s an irritating sensation until Shizuo brushes something that makes his whole body jolt. Izaya can feel Shizuo smirking as he leans in to kiss Izaya's temple, clearly pleased with himself. He rubs at the spot relentlessly, adding another finger as he does so.

“Fuck, hurry up,” Izaya whimpers. “ _Please_ hurry up.”

“Fuck, I’ve always thought about you begging me.”

_ “Shizuo.” _

“All right, all right. I just - don’t want to hurt you.”

He carefully withdraws his fingers. 

Izaya avoids looking at the other man's cock, not wanting to know how big it is. He keeps his eyes closed as he feels Shizuo line up against him, ignoring the sting as he pushes past the ring of muscle. Shizuo continues to slide in, quivering slightly with anticipation, until Izaya thinks he will pass out from the pain.

“I’m hurting you,” Shizuo says with dismay. “Should we stop?”

Izaya is tempted to hit him over the head with something.

_“No,”_ he says through his teeth. “Just - fucking - wait.”

Tentatively, Shizuo wraps a hand around Izaya's cock again, as if to apologise.

“Fuck,” Izaya whimpers, gripping Shizuo with his hands and his heels. “Now, please. Move.”

And Shizuo loses what little control he had left. Izaya claws at him, bites him, clings to him as different sensations overwhelm him until it's too much, and he hangs on to Shizuo harder than ever as he comes. The other man lets out a groan as he follows.

They hold to each other, panting. Shizuo’s weight stills and settles on top of him as he nuzzles Izaya’s hair.  Izaya laughs deliriously.

“Don’t laugh,” Shizuo says reproachfully.

“Why shouldn’t I laugh?” He smiles and puts his arms around Shizuo’s neck. “I’m very happy.”

“I’m going to pull out,” Shizuo warns. He does so, and lowers Izaya’s legs carefully, stroking them as if they were two animals. He then shifts to one side so his weight is no longer pressing into the smaller man, and pulls him into his arms.

“Yes, I’m so happy,” Izaya repeats, a little dreamily. “What a strange night. I don’t understand it at all.”

“Maybe you’re crazy,” Shizuo says, nuzzling his hair. “Or maybe this whole thing was a ploy to get to spend time with me.”

Izaya splutters at this.

“Did you not see the scary men after my blood?”

“I know, I know,” Shizuo says, hugging him. “Don’t worry. You can stay here as long as you want.”

“Thank you, but that’s not enough, is it? As fun as this was, your idea didn’t work. I still haven’t come up with a solution, and I’ve been _very_ distracted.”

“How about you tell me their names and I’ll kill them?” Shizuo says softly. “Would that be a solution?”

“Thank you, but I wouldn’t want you to waste your energy on people like that. And it’s such a big network. You’d kill them but twice as many will come back, like bugs.” He sighs.

“So what are you going to do?” Shizuo says, taking his hand. 

“I’ll pay someone very well connected to deal with it. I just need to decide who.” He remembers Shiki’s missed calls and closes his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” Shizuo reaches sleepily for the lamp, and they are enveloped in darkness once more. 

-

Izaya gets yet another call from Shiki that morning, while Shizuo is still in the shower and he is drying his own hair. He swallows, but he feels safe here. Shiki will not be able to do anything to him over the phone.

“Izaya,” the executive says as soon as the informant answers, which is strange. He normally called him Orihara. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Izaya says cautiously. If Shiki is acting, he’s very good at it.

“Are you - safe?”

“Yes, I’m very safe.”

“Good,” Shiki says, and it's almost business as usual. “I’m glad. Let’s meet. I need to talk to you about something important.”

“No thanks,” Izaya says hastily. “I mean, I think I need to take some time off.”

“Are you all right?” the other man asks again.

“I’m fine, I just - can’t meet just now.”

“Is someone with you?”

“Oh, no,” he says, understanding at once. “Nothing like that. I’m safe, I’m fine. I think I just need to - stay low for a while, no?”

“I want to see you,” Shiki insists. “I can help you, but you have to tell me everything you’ve told them.”

Izaya stays quiet.

Shiki heaves a sigh of impatience.

“Look, Izaya, if I had enough of your bullshit I’d deal with you myself. I wouldn’t hire some rats to do it for me. And I wouldn’t call you to try and find you, I’d wait for you to slip up yourself.” This makes sense. Izaya swallows, wavering. “I want to meet,” Shiki repeats. “In a public place, in broad daylight, in a place of your choosing. Bring Kine if you want. Bring anyone. But I do want to see you.”

“OK,” Izaya says, partly convinced. He tells Shiki a place and a time and they hang up.

He still looks troubled when Shizuo returns.

“Are you OK?”

“Yes,” he says, smiling weakly. “I’ve just called someone who will get me out of this mess. I’m meeting with him soon.” Then he remembers. “You have to give me your bank details so I can pay you.”

Shizuo bursts out laughing.

“I’m not going to charge you for last night, Izaya-kun,” Shizuo says, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

Relaxing, Izaya books an Uber before he can talk himself out of it. He declines Shizuo’s offer of tea and breakfast. 

The other man is watching him worriedly. Izaya smiles and takes his hands in his own.

“Come to my place next time, Shizu-chan. We’ll play a sexier version of truth or dare.”

Shizuo chuckles, but he does not look convinced.

“Seriously, though,” Izaya swallows, uncomfortable. “Thank you for everything.”

Shizuo is about to reply when Izaya’s phone buzzes. His Uber is outside.

He gives Shizuo’s hands a final squeeze and lets go.

“I’ll call you later.”

-

He tries to stay calm in the Uber. If he is going to die then so be it. What he thinks is more likely is a slap on the wrist, which in Yakuza terms was probably a broken leg, and this somehow scares him more than death. He tries to prepare something to say, but his mind remains a blank. He realises too late that he is out of his depth, that he should have called Kine after all.

He gets out of the cab and enters the restaurant, unable to feel the ground beneath him as he walks. The hostess takes him to a table where Shiki is waiting, tea already set out for them.

“Are you all right?” Shiki asks at once, before Izaya can so much as bow.

“Yes,” Izaya says, sitting down. He doesn’t know what else to say, so he waits.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You haven’t slept.”

Izaya colours and says nothing.

“OK,” Shiki says, leaning forward. “This is how it is. I can help you, but before I do I need you to tell me exactly what you told these people. I can make my own decisions, but I need to be able to justify them to my boss. So if I help you and it turns out you lied to me or left something out, for example, I’ll be forced to hand you over to whoever wants you and never see you again. Do you understand?”

Izaya nods uncertainly.

“Good. So tell me.”

He takes a sip of tea without taking his eyes off Izaya.

Izaya takes a breath.

“Well, they contacted me to get information about the Awakusu-Kai. Standard stuff. The same as what you once asked me for the Hiri gang, in fact.”

Shiki nods. 

“And what did you tell them?”

Hesitantly, Izaya tells him what happened, how he had been invited to their HQ, how he had been there barely five minutes when his gut instinct kicked in and sent him to the bathroom and out the window.

“So you didn’t say anything?” Shiki asks, sounding skeptical.

“That’s right.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

Izaya shrugs helplessly. He has no idea how to convince him. How fitting it will be, to be punished for the truth after getting away with so many lies.

Shiki stirs his tea in his cup, looking irritated.

“I’m going to warn you one last time. If you’re lying to me -”

“I’m not,” Izaya says softly. “Honestly Shiki, they weren’t very important men. I don’t know what they would do with information on you even if I’d given it to them, because they’re not powerful enough. I think they maybe just wanted me. I don’t know them, but maybe I inadvertently pissed them off through someone else.”

“I thought that too.”

He stirs his tea in silence for a moment, reflecting, before apparently coming to a decision.

“OK then. If that’s all you’ve got to say to me, I’ll take care of it.”

Izaya swallows.

“How much?”

Shiki meets his eye.

“I will take care of it. All of it.”

Izaya smiles weakly.

“You want me to be in debt to you, is that it?”

“Of course I do. You can’t be trusted. I hope you remember this favour for a long time.”

“Yes,” Izaya says meekly.

Shiki studies him again. He looks as though he is trying to figure something out, but does not want to ask directly.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he repeats eventually, his voice slightly kinder, wary. 

“Yes.”

"Where did you go? Shinra's?"

"Oh no. Just to a friend's."

Shiki holds his gaze for a moment before apparently giving up. 

“Let me make a few calls, then I’ll drop you home.”

And Izaya is left with his cooling tea while Shiki goes off to make his calls. He savours the delicious feeling of relief, of having got away with something by the skin of his teeth. 

Shiki returns and gestures for him to get up.

“Let’s go.”

Izaya hesitates.

Shiki laughs quietly.

“You little fool. I’ve been up all night looking for you and arguing with people for you and now you’re scared of me.”

“Not scared,” Izaya protests weakly. “I just don’t want to bother you. I’ve put you through so much trouble already -”

“Get in the car, Izaya.”

So he was sticking with Izaya. How disrespectful. But Izaya supposes he can’t complain. He follows Shiki meekly to his car. 

It is a long, long drive back to Shinjuku. Izaya realises dimly that he should have picked somewhere closer to home. 

They finally pull up to his building.

“You shouldn’t have any trouble from anyone,” Shiki says. “But if you prefer, I can have someone keep an eye on things tonight.”

“No thank you,” Izaya says. “And, er, thank you for everything else. I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

Shiki nods and gives a dismissive wave of his hand. Izaya lets himself out and walks inside, feeling Shiki’s eyes burn into his back all the while.

It is a Sunday, so Namie is not home. He falls on to his couch and into a long, long nap.

-

He is awoken by a knock on the door. He’s so startled he almost falls on the floor, but then he remembers his conversation with Shiki, the other man's reassurances. He goes to the door on his tiptoes, wincing over his poor abused ankles, and peeks through the hole. On finding a blur of blonde hair and black and white clothes, he opens the door happily.

“Shizu-chan!”

Shizu-chan manages to look uncomfortable, concerned and annoyed all at once. 

“You didn’t call.”

“I’m so sorry. I fell asleep.” He realises then that he can smell something delicious, and that Shizuo is holding a familiar looking take-out bag. “Is that fatty tuna?”

“It might be. Are you going to let me in or what?”


End file.
